Start Spreading the News
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: Discovering the loss of her fortune in the wake of her bout of Spanish Flu Cora makes the life-changing decision to leave her husband and leaves for pastures new, taking her maid with her. At the same time Edith, emboldened by her mother's actions, strikes out on her own determined to make a better life for herself in London. Rating will go up. AU from 2.8.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This story was written for the previous Nano and I was truly delighted to rediscover my inspiration for it. Set after the events of 2.08 with one major moderation that will become apparent in later chapters! Other than that I need you to assume Cora found out about the money issues a little bit earlier and we're done!

Enjoy and please review :)

**_Chapter One._**

Sarah O'Brien had never before contemplated the now rather obvious fact that First Class was not all it was cracked up to be if you were travelling in it under bad circumstances.

When her brother died during the war and she'd had a letter from her Dad asking for her presence Lady Grantham had all-but manhandled her into First Class and she'd acquiesced, too numb to really argue much, but the moment she'd been out of view of the platform and her ladyship waving in the early morning fog she'd slipped into Second, where she at least didn't feel like everyone was staring at her like she was a stowaway. But now was different. Now they were leaving the place that had been both their homes for decades and Sarah had no choice but to remain in the compartment where she felt so awkward because Cora was in no mood to be by herself.

"I think I was right to do it."

"Yes m'lady."

It was, by Sarah's count, at least the fourth time they had some kind of reiteration of this theme and though the Countess was making a valiant effort Sarah estimated it would soon be as many times that Cora had cried. It was to be expected of course under the circumstances but Sarah had never been at more of a loss as to what she was supposed to do. Had she ever known _anyone_ who'd left their husband before? Her sister was forever threatening to kick her husband out but that was just talk, no one had actually thought she'd do it, but last night when Cora had come to _her _room just before the family dinner and hurriedly asked her if she could take the time to pack up some clothes, her grandmother's jewellery and the box of trinkets from the girls' childhoods that Sarah knew Cora kept at the back of her wardrobe, she hadn't felt a moment's hesitation.

The thought that Cora might leave her husband had never crossed her mind but the fact that her ladyship _had_ left him was somehow inevitable.

"After everything I was right to do it."

It occurred to Sarah's mind then that in sixteen years she had never known Cora to be up and about at this time in the morning and her ladyship's repetitive statements might be an indication of her tiredness. Sarah doubted she'd gotten much sleep last night with one thing and another and the dark shadows under her eyes were as good an indication as any that Cora was exhausted.

"I think so m'lady."

She kept her face as neutral as possible but Sarah realised her error the moment big blue tear-filled eyes looked up at her for the first time since the train had departed the platform. Cora was imploring now, not the self-contained woman who had met her earlier that morning and led her out of the house - through the front door no less - to where the chauffeur was waiting to take them away. Cora needed something now and though Sarah was quite sure she _could_ tell her ladyship what she wanted to hear she wasn't at all sure whether she should; speaking her mind could open a can of worms that not even she would be able to talk herself out of if things mended themselves and Cora returned to Robert.

"So you agree with me O'Brien? Please say you do…"

Then again, Cora must know by now that she wasn't overly fond of his lordship.

"I do agree. I think you were right to do it," she mimicked back and earned herself the ghost of a watery smile. Cora seemed to drift for a moment after that, unable to earth herself to the seat or the reality of their situation and Sarah decided once and for all that she was quite right and it was altogether too early for Cora Crawley to be awake. After the battering it had taken recently the poor woman's system needed rest, not added stresses. She could alleviate the tiredness for the moment and the only person in this country that _might_ be able to help them with the stress was who they were heading to that very morning, so at least they were going in the right direction.

She slipped from her side of the compartment, marvelling at the fact that it was probably bigger than the bedroom she'd lived in at home for the first fifteen years of her life, and settled herself next to Cora. It was a testament to quite how unaware of her own surroundings the Countess was that she didn't even register the closeness. Unless it was something else of course – Sarah flattered herself that after the most recent few weeks of their time together she was a familiar presence to her ladyship in repose so it was nice to think that Cora took some comfort from her. She didn't bother to shift the carpet bags she had put together last night as quickly as possible before the family had left the dining room or Mrs Hughes had time to wonder where her most malignant member of staff was, and instead rested her feet on them carefully, picking the one that contained her own clothes purposefully, so as to elevate her lap slightly. It was something she'd seen plenty of mothers do on trains and it felt odd, but she was nothing if not practical and this was something she could do to help at the moment.

"Rest your head here m'lady, you need to get some sleep and we've hours till London."

"What about you? You won't be very comfortable," Sarah resisted the urge to raise her eyebrow. Her ladyship had always been slight and now after her recent illness she was skinnier than ever: Sarah doubted she'd lose the use of her legs, but resisted the urge to say so.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"Oh no, I couldn't," Cora shook her head diligently but her heart wasn't in the refusal and it didn't take Sarah applying much pressure on her shoulder before Cora rested her head against her arm. It was a start. She was fairly sure that Cora would slip down further once she felt the need for sleep but for now this would do.

Cora mumbled against her shoulder, things that Sarah was sure she wasn't supposed to be hearing and she ignored them as she should, keeping her eyes trained out of the window at the passing Yorkshire scenery. The early morning had given them a cover of fog but that was quickly dissipating, leaving behind the curiously stark and still countryside and Sarah had the distinct sensation that it was like catching someone at something they oughtn't to be doing before they had finished doing it. Sarah snorted lightly at her own observation but kept her body still enough not to disturb her ladyship. It hadn't taken long for her to drop off apparently, or at least not long for her to enter into some kind of fitful sleep that at least meant she was resting a bit.

Sarah didn't think she herself had slept properly for about three weeks now. Every sound in the night made her think immediately that someone was coming to get her to take her to Cora who, in her nightmares, had relapsed quite suddenly into the influenza that she'd beaten once and now there was nothing to be done for her but hold her hand as she slipped away. Only it wasn't slow and graceful like Sarah had heard others had gone, it was just like the night Cora had bled from the nose and tossed and turned like a mad thing in her sleep until only exhaustion had been her release. Sarah had cried to herself that night, when she was alone and when Lady Sybil wasn't looking, not because she'd wanted to save her – she did of course but that was a different matter – but because in that horrible moment when she'd thought Cora was going to die she at least wanted her to go peacefully. Cora was a peaceful, gentle person and she deserved a death that took her in her sleep without her ever knowing a thing about it. It was villains like _her _that deserved these ravages before finally being granted a release.

"O'Brien…" The mumble came and Sarah looked down cautiously, wondering if somehow Cora could have read her thoughts.

"Yes m'lady?"

"I think I'd like to take you up on your offer after all."

Sarah smiled to herself and leaned back against the wall of the carriage, giving Cora the space she needed to lower herself onto her maid's lap and sigh at the heightened comfort of being lain down. Sarah rested a hand on one of Cora's long limbs and squeezed her arm gently.

"I promise I won't let you fall off."

"I know you won't," Cora muttered and she shuffled for a moment and then lay still, quite comfortable already. "I trust you."

And with that final pronouncement Cora fell quiet, leaving her maid to her own thoughts that were raging from the simple admission. Sarah knew it meant precious little to Cora to say such things and that her ladyship couldn't possibly imagine how bloody _wrong_ she was to trust her at all, but the words made her smile and cry at the same time, something she seldom did and she was still crying – not smiling quite as much – when a lady she didn't recognised passed in front of the door of their carriage, presumably in search of the conductor given that she was holding her ticket in front of her like a spear she was preparing to thrust into someone.

Sarah racked her brain, wondering if this was someone who might know Cora. Plenty of people in the county did after all and this woman didn't look like some working class slouch that only caught sight of the Countess of Grantham at the village events and even then would have been too scared of her name to get too close. The woman looked back at her and Sarah cursed herself for her tears. Even not knowing who the lady was she had an abhorrence of being caught out in her few moments of weakness and Sarah was halfway to preparing a scowl, having decided that no, this wasn't someone that Cora would know when the woman surprised her and smiled sympathetically and continued on her journey through the train.

Sarah sat startled for a moment. It wasn't so extraordinary that someone had smiled but rather that someone of the woman's rank had bothered to smile at a maid. Although…Sarah looked down at the two of them here together, Countess and lady's maid, and tried to see them from an outside perspective. Both of them were dressed in black and Sarah supposed that was where the sympathy had come from, the nosy old bag must have thought they were both in mourning, when in fact black had just served their purposes on this bleak morning and Sarah had wanted to bundle Cora up in her warmest coat, which happened to be black. But it wasn't the clothes so much: Cora's were finer of course but with black it wasn't so easy to tell, people were generally just blobs of dark colour when they were out and about and Sarah doubted anyone really paid attention to how well maintained the clothes were or how attractive the buttons and collars. _Hers_ were almost as nice as Cora's of course but that was beside the point.

They must both look terribly pale to outsiders and Sarah put that down to Cora's recent illness on both their parts. Under hats it was impossible to tell which of them had the well cared for curls and the softer hair that bore signs of being looked after by someone else – although Sarah used the same solutions for herself that she mixed for Cora – and most importantly, Sarah thought, they were both wearing gloves so the telling state of their hands wasn't clear. All in all she thought they probably didn't resemble a lady's maid and a Countess at all and she amused herself with the notion that their viewer might have thought they were a pair of sisters – Sarah the elder of course. Even with all the dark shadows in the carriage she didn't imagine she would ever look less ravaged than Cora did. Perhaps as far as the woman was concerned they were both in mourning for a father and traveling home together for his funeral? They wouldn't have been able to see Cora's wedding ring, nor would they have known that Sarah had spent a good half an hour the previous evening going through her ladyship's ornate jewellery box to extract the pieces she knew from sixteen years of being told stories belonged to Cora in her own right, either from the long line of wealthy Levinson's or Martha's mother Abigail or Lady Rosamund. The loot was resting at her feet, totalling more than enough to see them anywhere they needed to go, not that Cora _wanted _to sell anything but it was nice to know they wouldn't starve if it came to it.

Another figure approaching the carriage bought Sarah attention back to the present and she glanced down briefly to make sure Cora was still sleeping: she was, and properly this time, which was a vast improvement, with her breathing deep and even and her head heavy on Sarah's lap. She lifted her hand to gain the attention of the ticket conductor, gesturing to her sleeping mistress and ensuring that he understood to tread carefully when he came inside. To his credit he did, being a little theatrical about the whole thing for Sarah's taste but he seemed a good enough sort and he reminded her oddly of Mr Molesley, a man so inoffensive his doppelgangers could hardly help but be the same. She reached carefully into Cora's pocket with a small smile for him, indicating what she was doing first so he didn't think she was just trying to rob her companion, and extracted the two tickets from Cora's pocket, handing them both to the conductor. He punched a hole through both of them with his little machine that looked to Sarah like one of the implements that Mrs Patmore didn't let her younger staff use in case they hurt themselves.

"There you go Miss," he whispered, having a glorious Lancashire accent that Sarah's instinct was to repeat right back at him in celebration of getting away from Yorkshire at long last, but she resisted. "I hope she's faring well. It can be trying to bury someone I know, my old dad died just last year," Sarah nodded along, trying to be polite as he was making an effort to be quiet. "Where're you headin' if you don't mind me asking?"

Sarah opened her mouth to speak and thought better of it for a second, pressing her lips together instead and clearing her throat, amused to see him still smiling. Oh, this one thought _she_ was a lady too! This was too good an opportunity and 'London' died in her throat…

"Oh, my sister and I are going back to America," she drawled out, using the quietness of the carriage to cover any defects in the accent she was uttering to another human being for the first time. She'd had sixteen years of listening to it though, how hard could it really be? "We're heading to Southampton for the boat. London first though to pick up a few things."

The man's eyes widened and Sarah knew that it wasn't because she sounded like a goose trying to imitate a nightingale but because he thought she was American and that was something exotic in these parts. Assuming you didn't know the Countess of Grantham of course.

"Well I do hope you have a nice journey Miss, April's not a bad time of year to pass or so I'm told."

She smiled indulgently at him, not for the first time becoming quite convinced that she should have gone on the stage, while he handed back the tickets and left the carriage as respectfully as he had entered it. Sarah watched him leave bemusedly, idly continuing to stroke her fingers gently through Cora's hair where they had found their way in the brief moment she had pretended they were related and therefore such a gesture wasn't inappropriate. It wasn't exactly going to change her life forevermore that she could apparently imitate Cora's accent when she was half-whispering and to a man who didn't know any better, but it was certainly something of interest.

With a small smile that belied their situation Sarah rested her head back against the panelled side of the carriage once more and closed her eyes, slipping into her own repose.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone! They're super encouraging :)

* * *

_**Chapter Two.**_

It was raining by the time they reached King's Cross.

The dreary drive down the Euston Road was about as indicative of Sarah's attitude towards London as it was possible to be: unnecessarily long, too many buildings, too many people, and with horrors in every direction she looked. The noise of the underground railways made her nervous despite being most definitely _overground_ herself; she'd _hated_ the underground since she'd first read about the thing and after one, single disastrous trip on it that she'd been all but forced into Sarah would rather have crawled from one end of London to the other than consented to getting on the thing again. Thankfully today they had a taxi and she was hopeful that the thought of the dirt and smog would put Cora off the contraption forevermore.

Sarah sank down further in her seat, trying diligently not to dislodge Cora from where she continued to doze as they went past the dome of Madame Tussauds and Sarah considered with a shudder the many models that it contained. There was something distinctly morbid about a place that housed what she could only ever think of as effigies and Sarah thanked her lucky stars that there was nothing on display – although it wasn't things themselves that she found distasteful, rather the thought of them all together in tableaus of reality. Who were they supposed to fool?

Past Baker Street now, with the taxi driver pointing out the most patronising bit of trivia possible to a woman's whose accent he had heard when she was wrangling the rich lady and had been identified as _not local, _and finally turning down Edgware Road, but not before Sarah had caught sight of another bloody underground station and felt her skin crawl anew.

"Most people get it these days y'know! Bloody thing'll put us out of business!"

Sarah nodded disinterestedly, not caring the slightest for the business of taxi drivers in London, although she couldn't help but share his disdain for the tube network. She stared out of the window, squeezing Cora's hand briefly until she got a response which satisfied her for the time being that her ladyship wasn't succumbing to anything as Sarah had feared she was after sleeping for the entire train journey, and it felt as though every few feet they went the rain increased dramatically. Gingerly she leaned closer to the window and wiped away the condensation with a still gloved hand and saw that they were right by Hyde Park.

She hadn't been there since before the war. She and Thomas had shared a half-day when her ladyship and the two older girls had done a long day of paying calls, meaning that the Grantham's London house had no need of a footman or a lady's maid and Mr Carson had been feeling generous; the sun had been bright and the world still innocent. They'd smoked and joked about Bates and it had been the last afternoon she could remember without the lingering guilt of her worst moment of bitterness overshadowing everything. She sighed and curled her body towards Cora's, wondering how people like his lordship could ever imagine the world could go back to the way it had been.

"Knightsbridge was it?"

The traffic had been good to them apparently and Sarah looked out of the window again, spotting another bloody station.

"No, Belgravia. Eaton Square."

"Right you are Miss. I can't see much so we'll have to trust it to fate won't we."

Sarah hoped to god he was talking about the fogged up windows and not his eyesight.

The rain was pummelling the pavement when they finally pulled up alongside Lady Rosamund's townhouse in Eaton Square and Sarah could barely contain her rapture that they wold soon be able to just stop still and contemplate the enormity of what had happened that morning. Cora was still dozing, still weak from the illness that had ravaged through her and left her a shadow of her former self and it occurred to Sarah then and only then that there was no guarantee Lady Rosamund would even be in. True, it was a miserable day and the chances of her taking a stroll were non-existent, but there was every possibility that she might be meeting friends elsewhere and not here to greet them. Mead was a decent enough butler but he was cut from the same cloth as Carson and without Lady Grantham being entirely able to speak for them Sarah wasn't sure how welcoming he would be if forced to greet a _lady's maid_ first.

The cabbie was good enough to open the door and pass the bags out to her but she didn't have nearly enough arms for all of their luggage and to support Cora as well and so she left the two containing Cora's jewels and her own belongings by the fence while she maneuverer Cora to the front step, her other arm clutching the stuffed bag full of her ladyship's clothes.

She attacked the doorbell desperately, able to just about hear the taxi driver over the rain shouting for his fare – which she didn't have because it was buried in one of the bags by the car – but she ignored him, still holding Cora up and desperately pressing the bell.

"It's alright now m'lady, we're here."

"At Rosamund's?"

Sarah frowned, the ever-present threat that Cora's flu might not have entirely abated suddenly seeming like it was a reality rather than a possibility. If Cora wasn't recognising places then it couldn't be a good sign at all and having gotten no response being polite Sarah half-dropped the bag of Cora's clothes and started to bang on the door instead. She couldn't hear anyone inside but there was a light coming from the hallway and Sarah trusted that Lady Rosamund would never leave her house entirely vacant even if she herself was not in.

"Come on for god's sake!"

She battered her clenched fist against the door, using the flat of her palm eventually in a vain attempt to create more noise.

"M'lady? Can you hear me?"

"Of course I can O'Brien, you're making an awful racket."

Sarah smiled softly but she was glad for the rain on her face keeping her more than aware that despite Cora perhaps not being quite at death's door they were still in a poor situation; she felt a rough hand on her shoulder, trying to pull her back around but she was not to be budged.

"Look! I don't think they're in so you'll have to pay me yourself!"

Sarah shook him off and hit the door again until finally, _finally_ it was opened and Mead stared down at the noisy intruders with utter distaste on his face, taking in their bedraggled appearance and preparing, Sarah was quite convinced, to banish them from the step until he caught sight of Lady Grantham and stood up straighter.

"Who on _earth _is it Mead?"

The voice echoing through the high ceilings and tastefully decorated halls of Eaton Square had in the past been one that Sarah found in turn amusing and frustrating but in this moment she could have cried with gratitude for Lady Rosamund Painswick.

"It's Lady Grantham m'lady. And her maid."

Sarah resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the caveat that was permitted to her and instead crossed the threshold as Lady Rosamund herself came into the hallway from her drawing room, her eyes going almost comically wide at the spectacle before her.

"What on earth… Cora?" It was to the lady's credit that she didn't even notice the dampness of her sister-in-law's clothing that would undoubtedly rub off on her as she reached forwards to relieve Sarah of the strain of propping Cora up alone. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know," Sarah breathed, almost crying as she thought of the horrible possibilities that might explain Cora's delirium. "I think she just needs sleep."

"And a Doctor. Mead," the man was already hurrying towards the library for the telephone before his lady even asked him. Rosamund turned on the driver. "Who are you and _why_ are you in my home?"

The taxi driver took a step back at the sharpness and Sarah was gratified that even if he thought nothing of grabbing hold of _her_ he immediately pulled off his hat and looked stricken at being spoken to so sharply by one of his betters.

"If you please ma'am, I haven't been paid yet."

"Are those their only bags?" Lady Rosamund nodded towards the single carpet bag that the driver had walked past on his way into the foyer.

"We've two more by the gate," Sarah managed, considerably more interested in how pale Cora was than she was about thieves in Belgravia stealing a bag filled with her corsets. Then again, the worth of the other bag was enough to buy this house but Sarah thought it best not to mention that she'd left it outside.

"Well fetch them, we'll see about payment when you're back."

The cabbie looked to Sarah for a moment as though he was going to refuse but he soon returned to the street and she saw him bending to fetch the bags.

"Can I put her to bed m'lady? I need to get her out of these wet clothes."

Rosamund cupped Cora's cheek affectionately, worry furrowing her brow as she nodded and turned her head to call for Mead, who immediately reappeared, apparently having completed his previous order without any of them noticing.

"The Doctor?"

"On his way m'lady, I told him it was a matter of urgency and the time it took him would be noted and spread around the rest of the street if you weren't satisfied."

"Very good Mead, thank you. Could you-?"

Sarah wasn't entirely paying attention to their exchange and she had no idea whether Lady Rosamund had actually indicated what her butler should do or whether his own nature had just demanded it but Mead strode across the entrance hall and lifted Cora up and into his arms as though she weighed no more than a throw rug he was about to take to the hall-boys for a beating outside. Sarah shot to her feet, keeping her hand on Cora's brow.

"Careful."

"It's alright O'Brien, he's stronger than he looks."

Mead took to the stairs with stately steps, not wavering in the slightest and Sarah moved to follow after him but was stopped by sheer irritation when she heard the taxi driver behind her again.

"I've bought the bags."

She stormed towards him and snatched the heaviest bag from his arms, unbalancing the other two and not much caring for anything that got broken at this point; crouching down on the ground she pulled the brim of the bag wide, making quite sure that he could see the pirate's ransom that he had recently been transporting and reaching inside for Lady Grantham's purse. She tossed the coins into the air for him to catch and stood back to her full height, quite prepared to push him over the threshold if he didn't leave this instance.

"That's…"

It wasn't enough and Sarah knew it but she stared him down with all the malice that had reduced better men than him to shrinking violets and he soon turned to leave, attempting to hold onto his dignity until he stumbled over the door step and had to skip a bit to regain his balance. Sarah didn't even have it in her to laugh as she slammed the door after him and breathed deeply, trying to rid herself of the anger before she saw to Cora.

"Well that was quite a performance."

Sarah spun around. She'd almost forgotten the presence of the redhead and immediately lowered her eyes in an attempt at humility even though she didn't imagine for a second that Lady Rosamund required it – still it was always better to be safe rather than sorry with her sort.

"I apologise m'lady-"

"What for? He deserved more than that."

Somehow Sarah doubted she was talking about his fare.

"Come on, Cora needs you. The Doctor won't be long."

Sarah hurried towards Rosamund and the stairs and was at the top before the other woman had cleared half the staircase but she pushed on to the bedroom Cora usually used when she was here and found that Mead had lain her out carefully and comfortably on the bed.

"Thank you, I can look after her now."

"Very good Miss O'Brien. Ring if you require anything at all," he gave her a pointed look and she managed to give him a watery smile as she reached to remove her hat and coat. He took them unquestioningly and left them to it and Sarah was at Cora's bedside before he'd left the room.

"M'lady, can you hear me?"

"Of course I can O'Brien, you sound terribly far away though."

She placed a hand on Cora's forehead and found her warm, perhaps a little more than she should be but that could be put down to their recent movements, and she certainly wasn't the sort of temperature she had been during the height of her illness. She checked Cora's pulse next, something she'd watched Lady Sybil do many times and learnt to repeat herself during the long hours when she and the Countess' youngest daughter had sat by Cora's bedside with nothing to do but wait. It was a tiny bit slower than Sarah thought it should be, but still beating strongly and not with the rapidity that had characterised the fever.

"Are you feeling well m'lady?"

Cora snorted with little amusement and Sarah chastised herself for asking that of a woman who'd just left her husband of over thirty years.

"In yourself I meant, do you feel ill?"

"No," Cora shook her head and finally managed to open her eyes and Sarah could see the tears that were still glistening in them from earlier. "Just _so_ tired."

Sarah reached up to press a hand against her cold cheek and smiled a sad smile that was returned to her in full.

"Let me get these wet things off you."

Cora nodded weakly in acquiesce and lay perfectly still as Sarah unbuttoned first her coat, then her blouse and eased them off her shoulders, meaning she only had to move her body once for them to be properly removed from her. Sarah's cold fingers worked quickly as she managed to uncover skin that was warm and soothed her worried heart into believing that Cora really was just tired because how could she be ill if she was pleasantly warm? The buttons at Cora's skirt usually yielded to her easily but today her own digits were so shaky that it took her a little while longer and there was one that she simply couldn't move at all and no matter how much she pulled at it the button wouldn't undo and she felt tears of frustration begin to fall down her cheek and cursed herself for the stupidity of her emotions.

"Here," Lady Rosamund appeared at her shoulder, placing a warm hand on her arm to make her loosen her grip and reaching for the button first, popping it easily and helping Sarah ease the skirt from Cora's hips. Her ladyship rolled over the moment she was clad only in her dry things and Sarah contemplated reaching under her chemise for the stockings but thought better of it; they were still dry and it wouldn't do Cora any good if she ended up with cold feet. Finally managing to regain her dexterity Sarah pulled the laces of Cora's boot until she could drag it off her lady's foot and Lady Rosamund, much to her surprise, removed the other one without much fuss. Together they wrapped Cora in the blankets and under directions Sarah delved into the wardrobe in the corner of the room for a spare one that she arranged around Cora's feet.

"Come on," Rosamund spoke quietly and calmly as she reached for Sarah's elbow and directed her towards the door.

"But what if she needs me?"

"She needs _sleep_." The lady of the house pulled the door to behind them, leaving a pocket of space that would let them know if Cora roused and called out for anything and though Sarah would have rather stayed on the off-chance she suffered herself to being led back down the wide staircase to the drawing room where they had disturbed Rosamund from in the first place. A book was upside down to mark its place on a coffee table next to the high-backed, well-padded armchairs that Sarah had watched Cora and Rosamund sit in for hours of an evening before now; a fire burned in the grate and Mead, who had shot up considerably in Sarah estimation, had bought out a grate to place in front of the fire on which she could dry her clothes and the bags that were lined up neatly next to the second chair.

"Sit down."

"I couldn't m'lady," she muttered out of habit despite Lady Rosamund pulling her towards the chair and all-but pushing her into it.

"Nonsense. Take you shoes off before you grow mould and don't you dare move until I give you leave to O'Brien," Sarah met her piercingly concerned gaze. "I mean it. I'll see the Doctor up and you'll stay here."

Sarah nodded. She didn't want to leave Cora of course but it was a fruitless battle given that even Dr Clarkson, who'd known her for decades, still gave her tremors and reminded her of the long-standing dislike for those in the medical profession. Besides which, this was Rosamund's house and he'd expect the mistress of the house to greet him. She leaned down to rest her head on hands that were propped up by her elbows, stretching out the ache in her back when it made itself known rather violently. She winced but stayed as still as possible for a long moment until it abated.

"Here you are, drink this… good god are you alright?"

"Fine," she straightened her back and found that it ached less for the small stretching and promised herself she'd do it more often. Lady Rosamund looked almost bemused for a moment as she held a glass towards her. Sarah stared at the cut crystal blankly, sure there was something she was supposed to understand in the gesture but at an absolute loss to grasp what it was. Why was Lady Rosamund gesturing towards her with brandy?

"Well go on then."

"I shouldn't m'lady, what if her ladyship needs me? And…" she checked her watch, aware of how rude it would look but hoping it at least got the point across.

"Oh stop fussing, it's past eleven and Cora's not going to wake up for a good long while. Drink it."

Allowing for no arguments Lady Rosamund pushed the glass into her hand and Sarah knocked back the neat measure in one, determining not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The lady of the house, half way back to her own seat, stopped and laughed.

"Sorry."

"Don't be my dear," Rosamund plucked the decanted from the side-table where it rested and put it pointedly on the table next to Sarah with a small nod. "Tell me what happened."

"It was raining."

"You amaze me," Rosamund gracefully retook her seat. "I wasn't expecting you."

"No, sorry," Sarah shook her head at her own stupidity and refilled her glass eagerly, trying desperately to stop her hand from trembling. "She's left him."

Whatever Lady Rosamund had been expecting it clearly hadn't been that and her eyes went almost comically wide before she turned her gaze towards the fire, an unreadable look on her face. Sarah sipped her new drink, feeling the way Thomas had described when he'd been in the trenches, cold, wet, despairing and clinging to strong drink like it was her last lifeline to the world.

"After all this time? I can scarcely believe it."

"You don't know what's been going on though m'lady," Rosamund's furrowed brow and the return of her sharp gaze prompted Sarah further. "They've not been right since the war really with one thing or another-" Sarah neglected to mention the fact that she had heavily contributed to one of those things but it twisted her stomach nevertheless. "And then there was this housemaid."

Rosmaund's eyes went wide. "Tell me you're joking O'Brien?"

"Jane her name was. She had a son and I suppose she and his lordship got close." She didn't know the ins and outs but she knew Lady Rosamund was worldly enough to draw her own conclusions, just as she herself had been when Cora had told her, eyes brimming with tears but voice steely.

"I never thought Robert would be so stupid."

"And then there was the money."

Rosamund's frown deepened at that and Sarah understood her confusion. That a man in his lordship's position had taken a lover wasn't a shocking turn of events if one had ever lived amongst the gentry as Sarah had, but the unshakable fact that had always separated the classes, created a them and us, was the solid knowledge that families like the Crawley's had money and families like the O'Brien's did not. Sarah felt a stab of smugness that her Dad might not _have _a lot, but he certainly wasn't daft enough to gamble with what he did have.

"Apparently his lordship made a lot of bad investments with her ladyship's money."

Sarah didn't pretend to understand the ins and outs of finances but she repeated it back exactly how Cora had told it to her, not two nights ago.

"He used the capital to buy into shares and when they depreciated he tried to make it up with the revenue from the estates but the land's not what it was anymore."

Rosamund nodded along and Sarah wasn't sure whether she understood either or was just pretending to.

"Well how much was it?"

Sarah furrowed her brow before realising that she had neglected to mention that particular detail.

"All of it m'lady."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter Three_**

When Sarah finally opened her eyes the sky outside was clear and bright and she felt quite frankly as though her entire body had been run through a mangle. At some point after the Doctor had been and gone, diagnosing Cora with shock and advising sweet tea and lots of bed rest, and Sarah had just about managed to breathe a sigh of relief, Lady Rosamund had personally harangued her up the stairs to the room next-door to Cora's that she slept in whenever she visited. His lordship normally hated the arrangement and didn't permit it in his house but Lady Rosamund was naturally more sensitive to the need a lady might have for her maid at any time of the night and refused to house O'Brien or any other lady's maid in any other part of the house. Sarah didn't think she'd have been able to conjure up the energy to reach Cora had she not been next door but as she was Sarah determinately dragged her legs off the bed and managed to stand up, taking a moment to steady herself before she lifted her head and felt the room swim.

Sarah closed her eyes tightly and sat back down on the bed until it passed and after a few moments, in which she had to assume their hostess had _leapt _like a gazelle up the staircase, Rosamund poked her head around the door with a smile.

"Goodness, you're awake at last!"

"At last?" She scrunched up her eyes as though that was ever going to reduce the volume Lady Rosamund spoke at when she was pleased about something.

"You went to sleep yesterday afternoon O'Brien, if you'd been out for any longer I was going to call the Doctor back."

Sarah looked up at her in shock. She'd been out cold for a whole bloody _day_!?

"What about her ladyship? Is she-" she got to her feet quickly and immediately regretted it, swaying on her feet until Rosamund tutted, rolled her eyes and helped her to sit down again. "Is she-?"

"She's absolutely fine. Still sleeping on and off, but not quite as heavily." Rosamund sat herself down on the bed, quite unconcerned by any propriety she might be pushing the boundaries of. "She's asked for you."

"Can I see her?"

"If you can manage to walk there…" Rosamund raised a perfectly arranged eyebrow pointedly and tilted her head with indulgence. Sarah looked back at her stricken but determined that she would try her best; she pushed herself up…it wasn't too bad this time, still lightheaded but it was going away. She couldn't remember a single occasion in her whole _life_ when she had slept for quite so many hours but during the various illnesses Cora had battled through the years her ladyship had insisted that the sleeping cure was all very well but it did give you a terrible headache and Sarah could now say first hand that her lady was quite right.

"I'm alright."

"I'm sure you are." Rosamund rolled her eyes and got to her feet. "Let me help you all the same."

A hand touched the small of her back and Sarah realised for the first time that she was still wearing her travelling clothes and they were beginning to feel unpleasantly like they were stuck to her skin; she wondered idly what had been done about the wet bags that had lain by the fire and decided that Mead must have dealt with them. Rosamund had been helpful to undress Cora but somehow Sarah couldn't see her sat in front of a fire grate carefully drying Cora's smalls. Rosamund guided her gently towards the connecting door and even went so far as to open it for her; if she was in a better state Sarah would have assumed the redhead was up to something but she was in a trusting sort of mood and when the door opened to reveal Cora half-sat up and slowly drinking a cup of tea she realised that her trust in Rosamund had been well placed.

"M'lady! You're awake."

Cora smiled at her, the red-rimmed eyes that suggested tears ever-present but looking a great deal less pale than she had yesterday. Her smile faltered though.

"O'Brien? What on earth's wrong?"

"Nothing darling, don't concern yourself," Rosamund's eyes met Sarah's and she shook her head minutely, the odd loose curl moving and along with the movement of her loose silk sleeves and skirt giving her the look of a swaying tree. "O'Brien's just had a bad night of sleep."

Sarah nodded along immediately and stepped away from the Earl's daughter carefully, sure she could stand for herself now and catching on that it was best not to distress Cora any further.

"I was worried about you m'lady."

Cora smiled, slow and fond, like a Queen indulging her favourite acolyte and reached out for Sarah's hand as she had done years ago at the garden party and Sarah immediately complied.

"About me?"

"Of course m'lady, you weren't very strong."

"I knew you'd carry me if I fell O'Brien." The smile increased and Cora rubbed a thumb warmed by the tea cup now resting in her other hand over Sarah's knuckles.

Rosamund took a step towards them and sat herself on the edge of Cora's bed with ease that Sarah envied but before their hostess could speak there was a short knock on the door and Rosamund bid them entrance.

"M'lady, a telephone call for you."

"Oh lord, who is it?"

Mead hesitated for a moment, not something Sarah got the impression he did much and they all knew what he was going to say before the clipped words left his lips.

"Lord Grantham m'lady."

Silence lingered and the butler had the sense to leave the room, something Sarah envied for a moment before Cora's grip tightened on hers and her ladyship tugged her closer until she had no choice but to sit the other side to where Rosamund was currently perched. Sarah furrowed her brow slightly. Surely at this moment Cora shouldn't be looking quite so worried? If his lordship was on the phone then he probably didn't know they were here or else it would have been the front door that had rung. Although Sarah wasn't sure quite how long they'd be able to stay before it became clear that the only place they could possibly have gone was Rosamund's.

"I'd better take the call. If I don't talk to him he'll soon have mama on me."

Rosamund slipped off the bed with a smile and squeezed Cora's arm briefly for a moment, prompting a watery smile and "Thank you Rosamund" from her ladyship before the redhead left the room. Sarah was startled when against her expectations Cora immediately leaned towards her, eyes wider and more alert than she'd looked moments ago, still clutching her hand and Sarah could see the effort that went into the movement and met her halfway, leaning over the bed until Cora was able to hiss her instructions quietly in case Mead or Rosamund were still in listening distance.

"Go after her O'Brien, try and find out what she says to him."

Sarah furrowed her brow and pulled back, twisting her neck immediately to look after her shoulder in a nervous gesture.

"M'lady?"

"Go, before she hangs up."

"M'lady, I think she's on your side, haven't you always said she's your best friend in this country?"

"She's one of _them_ first. Go."

"M'la-"

"You're the only one I can trust Sarah."

The shock of her name prompted Sarah into action and with a last look at the suddenly frantic expression in Cora's eyes she followed after Lady Rosamund as quietly as she could, thoughtfully pushing her boots from her feet as she went to reduce the sound, doubting Cora would mind the breach in normal etiquette given what she was asking her to do. Sarah crept along the carpet of the upper landing until she came to the top of the staircase and flitted down them as quickly and as quietly as she could before she reached the door of the library.

The oak panelling of the door was heavy and would have muffled any sound but door was still open and Sarah suppose Lady Rosamund wasn't a creature who expected people spying on her to ascertain her motives. She leant her head close to the gap and strained her ears. Thankfully Rosamund also wasn't a particularly quiet creature.

"And I've told you twice I don't know where she is Robert! And I'd appreciate not being shouted at!"

"…"

"Well it isn't my fault you've mislaid your wife."

"…"

"How do you know she's left? Perhaps she just felt like a walk?"

"…"

"A long walk."

"…"

"Well she always did like company, I don't see what O'Brien being gone has to do with it."

"…"

"I'm sure she's just gone for a shopping trip to Ripon and decided to spend the night at a hotel so she can do more today."

"…"

"She can shop without _me_ Robert and I do resent that you always think it's my wrongdoing."

"…"

Rosamund sighed heavily and theatrically and Sarah, not for the first time in the many years she'd known the Crawley family, wondered how much money mother and daughter would have made if they'd ever thought of going on the stage.

"Well it might not be the point but it doesn't change the fact that I have absolutely no idea where Cora might be. You're more than welcome to come and search my attic if you wish but I wouldn't waste your time. Have you asked mama?"

"…"

"Well if you believe mama when she says she had no idea then why won't you believe me?"

"…"

Rosamund harrumphed and Sarah got the impression that the redhead was rather enjoying herself.

"Charming I must say. I don't know what to tell you Robert but I'm terribly busy and if I discover her under my bed I'll let you know but otherwise I must be getting on."

"…"

"Same to you brother."

She replaced the receiver and Sarah immediately turned to skedaddle up the staircase back to Cora's room. She was out of breath when she returned to the bed and Cora looked at her with wide eyes, her tea having being replaced on the side-table and fiddling with her fingers. She nodded pointedly towards the door, behind which they could hear Rosamund's heeled feet on the staircase and Sarah shook her head with a small smile and Cora got the message, breathing a sigh of relief and closing her eyes as she smiled thankfully.

"The nerve of him," Rosamund re-entered the room just as Sarah got herself back into place next to Cora and continued with the conversation as though she had never left the room for the phone call. "It's as though he thinks it's my fault you've left him." She gracefully fell into place the other side of Cora and smiled at her sister-in-law fondly.

"You have haven't you? Left him properly I mean?" Rosamund's face became serious. "Because you're quite welcome to stay here as long as you need."

"He'll find me here Rosamund, it won't take him long and then he'll hate you too," Cora squeezed Sarah's hand tightly where they lay entwined on the bed and reached for Rosamund's with her free hand. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh there's no need to worry about that."

Cora tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrow.

"You might say that now, you won't like it when he stops sending you food and inviting you to parties."

"How fickle you think me darling," Rosamund feigned indignation but the smile on her face was unmistakable and she turned her body towards Cora with graceful flexibility Sarah couldn't help but envy. "But I have a better idea of where you could stay."

Sarah had already considered the possibility of hotels, which she was sure Lady Rosamund was about to suggest, but she'd also considered the fact that their budget might not stretch quite so far. Running away was all very well and good but Cora had little cash in the house and between them they'd been able to scrape enough together that might just about cover a few nights at a lesser hotel, but certainly nowhere that Cora would be accustomed to.

"Go on?"

"At one of my houses of course."

Sarah looked between the two women curiously and saw a confused look on Cora's face that she couldn't imagine boded well.

"_One_ of your houses?"

Rosamund smiled and Sarah got the impression that she had achieved the exact effect she had set out to make.

"Marmaduke was a better investor than my dear brother and he was quite keen on property."

"But…" Cora's tone was weak again and Sarah weighed up in her mind whether the earlier briskness had been a colossal effort or whether there was still some uncertainty in her mind regarding Rosamund's reliability. "You've never mentioned them before."

Rosamund smiled lightly and squeezed Cora's hand, clearly pleased that she was able to do some good.

"Well you've never asked. I'll make sure one of them is ready for you this afternoon and ask the chauffeur to be ready with the car. Mead's dried all your things out."

Sarah kept her face impassive but didn't move her gaze from Cora's face. The lines seemed to grow deeper with her astonishment and her lady closed her eyes for a moment, processing the information as quickly as she could before she gave Rosamund the only answer that she could.

"Thank you for being so kind."

"Oh darling," the redhead leaned forwards with a spirited smile but emotion in her voice that Sarah couldn't mistake. She'd always rather liked Lady Rosamund: she was amusing to dress, her figure was no trouble at all to get into a corset, her hair was like a dolls to play with and she was always generous with her tips to the staff members she liked at the end of her visits. She possessed a generosity of spirit that Sarah found appealing, despite her usual disdain for those of an overly-friendly temperament, and it was that generosity that was to save them for the moment and she smiled herself when Rosamund pressed her lips to Cora's forehead.

"Did you ever doubt me?"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Tank you all so much for the reviews, it's super encouraging to know that people are enjoying my nonsense! Slight divergence for this chapter :)

* * *

**_Chapter Four_**

_Two weeks earlier._

"I'll miss you when you're gone you know?"

Lavinia Swire smiled softly at her companion and reached for her hand to give it a gentle squeeze, not forgetting for a moment how lucky she was to still be here and determined to appreciate the people in her life that she called friend as much as possible. Despite the war it had never occurred to her quite how close a brush with death someone her age could have and she had come closer than most and she was quite convinced that the only thing that had truly saved her had been the care the inhabitants of Downton Abbey had given her. That being said, Lavinia was also aware by proxy of their absences which people either couldn't care less or were thanking their lucky stars that she had survived for the time being at least. She scrunched up her brow, the smile momentarily forgotten.

"I mean it really. I know it's a bit odd of me and I should be on Mary's side-"

Lavinia turned her head on the pillow, admonishing the other girl with a look but unable to stop a small smile coming back into place.

"I never wanted there to be _sides_."

Edith Crawley blushed and looked momentarily aghast and Lavinia cursed herself. Edith, alongside Isobel and occasionally Lady Sybil with whom she had previously had nothing to do with, were the people that had been visiting her primarily. Oh, she'd seen some of the household staff every now and then but mostly the housekeeper and the sweet girl who lit her fire in the morning, so she was fully aware that her bank of friends at Downton was not great. Matthew hadn't been by for a whole day.

"There are always sides with Mary," Edith muttered, not sounding bitter so much as resigned and Lavinia squeezed her hand tighter.

"You've been so kind to me Lady Edith-"

"Edith. I've told you a hundred times now!" She smiled with exasperation and shook her head. "If we're going to be family it only seems right."

Lavinia fell silent and closed her eyes in a vain attempt to counteract the tears that were welling up again. She'd had enough of crying about this by now and it wouldn't do her any good to get herself upset again according to Isobel – she knew it wasn't meant cruelly, however brusquely it had come across, but that the woman she had liked and grown accustomed to being her future mother-in-law of could turn on her almost as quickly as Matthew had was almost as bad a blow. Only _almost _of course. She'd managed not to cry around Edith just yet though; for the most part they'd spoken about nice normal things like books and the state of the world after the war and the differences in how they'd been educated and she'd been able to forget the though Edith might miss her company, she would probably be the only one.

Matthew might have stayed with her – it seemed the sort of misguided thing he would do – but Lavinia hated the thought of him miserable almost as much as she hated the thought of him carrying on with Mary even after their wedding, which she'd realised with a horrible inevitability, he probably would do. And so she'd let him go. It wouldn't have been too bad if she hadn't been ill: she could have released him and walked away with her dignity intact but instead she'd been confined to her bed, lingering in sweaty sheets with no one to cool her brow. Edith's visits had been the only thing keeping her going and now she was going to ruin them by crying in front of her friend!

But she couldn't help it.

"I don't think we are."

Edith frowned and it became abundantly clear to Lavinia that Matthew hadn't told anyone other than his mother, or at least he certainly hadn't told the majority of the household. He'd probably told Mary, she thought bitterly, before stopping herself. It was pointless to dwell on _that_ now although she couldn't suppress the burning desire to know whether he had told his old paramour or not yet, if he had then there was no doubt in her mind that she'd done the right thing, if he hadn't…

There was always the possibility that he still hoped.

"What do you mean?"

"Matthew and I won't be getting married."

"No," Edith smiled sympathetically. "I know you've had to call the wedding off, I can't imagine anything more awful but you mustn't worry too much. You'll be well again before you know it and-"

"No." Lavinia blushed, she hated interrupting people at the best of times, but now it was to deliver news she was sure Edith would hate to hear and she didn't relish the possibility. "I mean we won't be getting married at all. We've…that is to say _I've_ told him that he'll never be happy with me and we both know it."

"Is this about Mary?" Edith's tone was unsurprised, affronted even, and Lavinia felt a rush of warm towards the other girl and for once she raised an eyebrow and answered back in Edith's own tone of voice.

"Isn't it always?"

* * *

_Present…_

Edith held the piece of paper tightly in her pocket. She'd long since learnt the address by heart and sent a letter there in the last fortnight but she wanted to make absolutely sure that when the time came she went to the right house. Although at this point she thought she was long past the point of embarrassment given the first duty she was being expected to perform by her papa today – the second visit was entirely for her own benefit, the first was for his and she hadn't thought to question at the time why he couldn't do it himself.

She got out of the taxi outside her aunt's house and handed the rather twitchy looking man the money he was owed before he sped off at breakneck speed, taking the first turn out of Eaton Square when the second would have been more convenient for his return to the station. She watched him curiously for a moment before dismissing it as the kind of oddness one generally found in London and instead headed towards the front door. It felt like eons since she had last seen her aunt and Edith wondered idly whether Rosamund had been told the ins and outs of Sybil's new beau or Lavinia's departure by her Granny or whether it was going to fall to her to fill her ever-nosy aunt in on the various goings on at Downton. There was very little that made aunt Rosamund more inclined to keep someone in her house for a visit than them coming armed with gossip to relay to her. Granny had once coasted along for a good two months in the best guest room by releasing at strategic intervals what her niece Susan had been up to; no one knew better than Rosamund's own mother quite how much the redhead _hated_ her cousin and with what relish she devoured any suggestion that Susan was doing things wrong with her children, her marriage or the management of her servants. Edith only wished she had something quite that potent.

The door opened as swiftly as ever.

"Hello Mead. Is aunt Rosamund in?"

"She is m'lady." He stepped aside and with a small smile she crossed the threshold as she removed her hat and held it tightly in one hand. She turned to the hallway mirror instinctively to right her hair and Mead made a move towards her to relieve her of her coat, something she was unspeakably grateful for. The spring heat was most definitely upon them and as April turned into May they'd had nothing but sunny days for nearly a week now and she was only wearing a coat out of habit really. The cooler air in Rosamund's entrance hall was wonderful though and she handed her hat to the butler with another smile.

"In the drawing room?"

"The library m'lady. Shall I announce you?"

"Oh," she waved her hand unconcerned. "There's no need. I don't expect anyone to stand on ceremony for me."

"Nevertheless," he took a long stride that placed him much closer to the door than she was and she started for a moment. "Lady Rosamund does like protocol."

In all the years he had been her aunt's chief attendant Edith had never known Mead to be quite so insistent about following form and she spotted immediately that something was wrong with his statement: of all her relatives Rosamund was possibly the one that cared the least about protocol – when it came to other people's positions at least – and there was most definitely a reason for the sudden change in attitude at Eaton Square. She didn't make a fuss though and watched with critical eyes as Mead entered the library and closed the door behind him, her coat and hat still clutched in his hand, something she couldn't imagine Carson doing even if someone had a gun to his head.

Eventually the door was opened and she was allowed in.

Sat in her usual seat by the fireplace – thankfully unlit, although her aunt was lizard-like in her desire to always have a source of heat nearby – Rosamund smiled at her welcomingly and rose gracefully to her feet.

"Edith dear," she took her nieces hands in hers. "What," she kissed one cheek, "a lovely," then the other, "surprise."

Edith smiled back and allowed herself to be lead through the usual questions about her health and her journey until Rosamund got to the question she'd clearly been waiting to ask as she pulled them both onto the chaise lounge in the corner of the room.

"And what brings you to London?"

"A mission from papa."

Rosamund smile immediately became more fixed and she lowered her head slightly, concealing the shadow that came across her face as her mind raced.

"I think I can guess."

"You can't imagine what it's been like aunt Rosamund, we've all been going out of our minds!"

"How long has it been since you've heard from her?"

"Four days now. She went to bed perfectly normally the night before and then the following morning…" Edith swallowed down the emotion in her throat. She'd already cried about her mother's absence from the house and it seemed silly to do it again, especially when her father was so very convinced that Rosamund probably had her in one of her guest rooms and it was all to do with Cora trying to make a point. "She was just gone. And we know she's not on her own because O'Brien's with her-"

"So she'll have a starched petticoat and excellent hair no matter where she is?"

Rosamund smirked and Edith couldn't help but smile slightly. It was always easier to mollifying aunt Rosamund when one didn't censure what she said.

"So we know she's safe. But we just don't know _where_ she is."

"And you imagine I do?"

Rosamund's face was guarded and, Edith surmised, with good reason. If she'd been held at the door then it was entirely possible that her mother had lately been in this very room and had slipped out by the other door to hide upstairs with O'Brien. The possibility that her mama just didn't want to see her at all stung.

"Well yes! Where else could she be if not here?"

Rosamund blinked twice in rapid succession and bit her lip for a second, squeezing her hand in a way that Edith could only imagine was designed to be rather pointed.

"I can promise you here and now darling that your mother is not in this house."

Edith thought she heard an emphasis on the 'this' and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that it was a significant tell, but then again aunt Rosamund's speech patterns were general so rhythmical that it was entirely possibly she'd just imagined hearing something she hadn't at all. Rosamund wasn't a fan of lying – when she had a secret she was usually burning to tell people rather than determined to conceal the truth. She dropped her aunt's hand and a brief look of disappointment came over the freckled face before it vanished and Rosamund looked quite normal again.

"Papa's going out of his mind."

"So I've guessed from his telephone calls. My dear, if you would, please do tell him that even if I could help I would not be made more inclined to do so by his calling me every name under the sun. We're not children anymore and I've never given him reason not to take my words at face value."

Edith knew then and there that she'd lost any chance she had of finding out anything from her aunt and she stood up, clearly startling Rosamund.

"You should let him know yourself. I was going to ask to stay for a little while – I'm sick of hearing about Matthew's _troubling time_ – but I don't think I'll be welcome-"

"Of _course_ you're welcome."

Edith frowned down at the other woman. Perhaps mama _wasn't _here after all? Well, even if that was true it was clear to her by her aunt's behaviour that Rosamund knew where the Countess of Grantham was and she wasn't inclined to share the details. Edith braced her back, trying to keep her head up; they must think she was on papa's side and planned to go running with the news to him as soon as she had it – did none of them realise that she'd actually grown up and the sort of childish thing she might have done to curry favour with her papa when she was six was not the way she behaved now?!

"I don't think I am. Besides, there's someone else I can stay with."

"Edith-" Rosamund reached for her hand again but she pulled it free and stalked towards the door without being stopped. Mead was still hovering in the entrance hall and still had her coat and hat in his hands – she got the distinct feeling that he'd listened to their conversation but it was immaterial – and aunt Rosamund followed her out of the library the exact moment she wrenched open the front door, ignoring the butler's offer to do it.

"_If_ I told you anything how could I know you wouldn't tell your father?" Rosamund spoke archly as ever but there was an underlying imploration that Edith determinately ignored: she was tired to death of this nonsense now. She sighed heavily and almost laughed at how horrible the situation really was.

"You don't, I suppose. Do enjoy yourself though aunt Rosamund," Edith knew it was a low blow but she found she didn't care as she stepped back over the threshold, the grass on front of the door barely having had time to straighten itself from when she'd trodden on it before. "I know how little excitement you get."

She saw her aunt's expression change but before it had chance to settle Edith left the house and stormed down the street, filled with irritation and regret. Why had she ever imagined for a second that anyone would bother to trust her with anything important, she wasn't the oldest and she didn't have an impressive job that made her seem like she deserved responsibility. She didn't have her father on her side anymore and her mother didn't want her around her it seemed and to top it all off the one relative that she liked and actually liked her she'd gone and upset. At this rate she'd be left with only Cousin Isobel to talk to!

She turned out of the square without once looking back and carried on down the road she found herself on, not giving too much thought to the direction she was taking for a good long while as she turned the events of the visit over in her head and tried to desperately think if there was some way she could take it back without conceding too much – she _was_ right about Rosamund lying after all and even if her mama wasn't at Eaton Square her aunt definitely knew where she was and clearly neither of them trusted her enough to pass it onto her. Someone knocked into her shoulder and forced her attention back on her surroundings; the passing man muttered a sorry but it couldn't have been clearer that he thought it was her own fault for not paying heed to the pavement – he was probably right. Edith looked around her when she realised she was in quite another square, this one much smaller and after a moment she realised where she was and reached into her coat pocket quickly to pull out her piece of paper.

_17 Chelsea Square._

Her eyes darted around the houses until she found the right part of the square and hurried towards it, coat slung over her arm and hat long since stuffed into the pocket. Edith stopped in front of a parked car and checked her hair in the wing-mirror quickly and tried to mop up her brow with the handkerchief she'd found in her pocket until she decided she was as good as she was going to get. Lavinia was hardly going to judge her appearance anyway given that the last time they'd met the other girl had practically been on her deathbed.

She rang the bell and waited, hoping she had more luck at this house.

As she'd anticipated, Lavinia was as welcome as could be and Edith almost immediately felt better for being in her presence. She related the whole story to the other girl, not seeing any reason to omit anything for the sake of someone who'd already seen some members of the family at their worst anyway: she considered leaving out her parting shot to aunt Rosamund but forced herself to tell all, it seemed childish to hide details that put her in a bad light and it was to her relief that Lavinia's opinion of her didn't seem to have changed. For the first time the discussion about her mother became less about the rather notable absence – that Edith confided the whole family, bar Robert himself, had come to accept as Cora having left her husband – and instead the conversation turned towards who would fill her shoes.

"Mary I suppose. Although I wouldn't put it past granny to take back over the whole pile, I think she's been dying to for decades now."

"I expect the staff can organise themselves by now? They've all been there rather a long time now haven't they?"

Edith nodded and got the impression that the matter of the staff had come up for Lavinia before. She could hazard a guess what it was about: at least Patrick had grown up in the house and when he and Mary had taken over the downstairs would have been filled with people who'd known them both all their life. Edith could imagine Mrs Hughes being the sort of woman who'd be able to adapt to both Matthew _and_ a wife she hadn't anticipated but somehow she couldn't see Mr Carson being able to accept anyone but the direct descendant of the previous two Lady Grantham's he'd served. Although she and Sybil still wouldn't have been quite right in his eyes.

"Mrs Hughes will be alright for the time being I expect. And Mrs Patmore too, but I think if I were O'Brien I wouldn't come back even if mama did, Mr Carson was quite livid with her."

"Why should he be? It's Lady Grantham's business isn't it?" Lavinia sipped her tea and Edith smiled softly.

"Yes, I suppose it is really. We're all grown-ups now. She shouldn't have to wait around for us anymore…we don't need her."

Lavinia furrowed her brow and reached out to take her hand unexpectedly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Just…well, I suppose I'm not used to having a mother."

Edith laughed humourlessly.

"I know the feeling."

Lavinia stared at her for a moment with the same expression she'd worn at the memorable afternoon tea the two of them had taken with Mary when someone – Edith remembered it being her, but she might have been wrong – had dared to mention the previous engagement. She smiled softly as she looked down at her tea again, stirring it idly to give herself something to concentrate upon and Edith was more grateful that she could imagine for her comments being swept under the rung so easily: it wasn't as though she meant half of them.

"I always admired Lady Grantham so much. I think it's just as well things worked out the way they did in the end. I doubt I could have been quite so _Countessly_." Lavinia screwed up her nose, quite sure that wasn't a word but unable to think of anything as appropriate but Edith smiled back at her so it didn't seem to matter all too much.

"I'm sure you would have been. Mama once told me that the first time she ever came to the house she tripped over her own shoes and barrelled straight into Aunt Rosamund!"

Lavinia giggled at the image of the two women she had only ever seen at their most upright and would now forever be in her mind in a tangle of feathers and fur.

"It could have been worse I suppose, your grandmother's much more fearsome."

"She doesn't always mean it-" Edith stopped herself with a disbelieving laugh at her own words. No one in their right mind would ever believe that their grandmother was anything other than terrifying and she had to concur with them, even if she did see more of her soft side than most did. "She cried when the footman died."

"The dark one?" Lavinia asked, trying to place him.

"No, that was Thomas. William, the tall, redheaded one."

"Yes, I remember Matthew talking about him. He was his batman wasn't he?"

"He saved Matthew's life."

"And delivered him into the arms of his sweetheart," Lavinia raised her eyebrow as she sipped her tea. "Doesn't seem like a worthy sacrifice to me."

Edith opened her mouth to reply but found herself at a bit of a loss and she wondered at what point she and Lavinia would cross the point at which they could say these things to each other without having a momentary stab of discomfort.

"It's alright you know? We can talk about it, I don't mind."

"I do," Edith said tartly. "I don't want to spend all my time thinking about _Mary _and _Matthew _and what they'll do when Sir Richard decides he's had enough."

Lavinia's eyes widened momentarily and it was apparent to Edith that she had quite forgotten about the formidable older man that still stood between the couple. Eventually she laughed and Edith laughed along with her.

An hour later it occurred to them that it was getting late and Edith had a momentary horror of the options available to her. She could go back to aunt Rosamund's house and apologise or else try to convince the London housekeeper to open up her room for the night, she _could_ still get the train back of course but the rumbling in her stomach and the decreasing light made that option seem worse than playing at humility. Lavinia was just about to offer dinner when her father came into the room. It seemed ridiculous to Edith that despite the years she had been acquainted with Lavinia now and the fact that they would have been family, she had never met any of her family and she smiled at the old man that reminded her powerfully of her late uncle Marmaduke, and immediately noticed the cold he was carrying.

"Of course she's more than welcome dearest," he stroked Lavinia's cheek affectionate with the back of his index finger as he walked past them towards the chair that must have been his. "But I don't think I'll be taking dinner tonight and I certainly won't be much company I'm afraid."

"Oh I'm sure Edith won't mind will you?"

"No, not at all."

"Well I will m'lady-"

"Oh please, there's no need for that."

He nodded but continued on unperturbed and with his whiskers the way they were she thought he had the look of a shrewd badger.

"I most certainly will. Lavinia I think you should take Lady Edith out onto the town for the night. Go to the_ Ivy _or wherever it is you young people like to go these days, treat yourselves to dinner out, rub shoulders with some racing drivers."

Lavinia smiled as she looked sideways at Edith and they both laughed at the same time.

"I've nothing to wear."

"You can borrow something. And you must stay. Oh, say you will, I've never had a friend stay before."

Mr Swire smiled to himself in the corner and rubbed his runny nose with a neat handkerchief while the girls were distracted, already totting up how much he should increase Lavinia's allowance by if Lady Edith Crawley was going to be coming around more often.


End file.
